“Oh man. You have it just as bad, huh?" She hugs me and I nod. [...]
Jenna looks like she's debating something when she whispers, "I don't want to make you feel bad about this because I know you had a lot going on, but he sang this song for you last weekend."
But I wasn't there. Shit.
As the weight of that sinks in, I'm overwhelmed. He was going to tell me he loved me first.”
―
Lex Martin,
Dearest Clementine